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Superstitions and Runaway Imaginations

I’ve gotten to know someone with OCD, and seeing it more closely has made me think about it. Specifically, how it’s really just a compulsion to do a lot of odd little habits. I think we all have one or two superstitions. For goodness sake, just look at Major League Baseball. They do the weirdest stuff. (Maybe steroids cause OCD?)

Now, I would tell you that I’m not superstitious.

I don’t tap the car ceiling when I go through a yellow light, or hold my breath past graveyards, or pick up my feet when I go over railroad tracks. I don’t have to get dressed or undressed in any particular order (sometimes in a truly bizarre disarrayed order, actually). I don’t have to wear or not wear anything in particular or re-check anything or do things more than once.

But when I start to think about it…

I worked in retail from the time I was 15 through college and when I rang up a total that came to $6.66, I stood on one foot. Not so you’d notice, just shifted my balance. Don’t know why. Just did. Don’t anymore. (But it still feels wrong not to.)

I’m getting over the “sing before breakfast, cry before sleeping” one.

But even now, when I spill salt, I throw some over my left shoulder with my right hand.

And shoes can never, ever sit on the table.

And here’s a weird one – less a superstition than just making believe, I guess.

I’ve always imagined that someday I’ll come across one person who’ll be able to read my mind. Maybe it’ll be a total stranger. Maybe it’ll be the person I end up with forever.

But every now and then, if someone glances at me at an odd moment, I always wonder if they’re the one, and I think a little “tester” thought to see if they react.

So am I superstitious? Imaginative? Neurotic? Paranoid? Just normal? Who knows.